


The Dragon's Vengeance

by memnarch



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 11:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11274534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memnarch/pseuds/memnarch
Summary: "I told you before you killed me that you would scream forever." A man of honor feels the extent of a dragon's wrath. Set during the Time Spiral Cycle.





	The Dragon's Vengeance

The Dragon’s Vengeance

The dead man had not expected to wake up again. His last memories were of his children and his friends surrounding his deathbed. Rebuilding a nation devastated by war and magic, the latter having been nearly all due to his actions, had taken its toll. Negotiating with secessionists, placating nobility; these things he had accomplished in the first few years. But it had been nearly a decade until the sky had cleared. Crops had suffered. Few had starved, but many were malnourished. Even after the dust settled, the guilt gnawed at his heart for years afterward. The place he had always turned to for solace and guidance was long gone, destroyed along with his greatest foe.

The twilight of his life had offered more hope though. His sons, Takaru and Kei, would follow in his footsteps when they came of age. He had never regretted marrying late, for if he had not, he never would have met his wife. He only lamented that they had not had more time together. Until Taka and Kei took their rightful places as shogun or head of the clan, the dead man had been confident that Madara was in capable hands. Or paws, in some cases.

It was to the sight of a strangely subdued sky that he awoke. The color was wrong somehow, as if it had had some of its brightness removed, despite the sun high overhead. This only proved a slight curiosity compared to what happened next. It was getting closer. The sky was falling towards him. That couldn’t be right. He tried to turn his head, but he was unable to move any of his limbs; only his eyes.

Abruptly, he realized he was rising into the sky, not the other way around. After thirty feet or so, his body began to rotate forward. The first thing he saw was a pair of horns, large and distinctly curved. It wasn’t until his eyes lowered to the face below them that he started panicking. Green eyes burned hateful glee as they locked with his. Below them a wide, fanged smile trembled; as if fighting the urge to burst into ecstatic laughter. He wanted to scream, but his mouth wouldn’t move. He had no breath.

A soft, rich voice issued from the horrid, grinning mouth, “Hello _Tetsuo_.”

Nicol Bolas, the tyrannical dragon planeswalker and god emperor of Madara, that Tetsuo Umezawa had slain in spirit and body, had risen from death. His nemesis remained much as he remembered him, although the potent mana rolling off the ancient tyrant in waves no longer seemed quite as difficult to bear.

In fact, as Tetsuo stretched out his senses, he found that very little mana was to be had in the surrounding area. Perhaps that accounted for the sky’s odd hue.

“It is something of a homecoming, for both of us,” Bolas smirked, gesturing widely with one of his three-fingered hands and turning Tetsuo to the side; affording Madara’s first shogun a view of what remained of his home.

The main building of the ancestral Umezawa manor had been torn from its foundations and lobbed into the nearly dry nearby swamp. The remaining structures had been reduced to splinters or trampled into the sides of the surrounding valley. Much of the wood was burned, the smoky odor barely masking an even fouler aroma, which Tetsuo had no desire to identify. The Elder Dragon had demolished his family’s estates with the kind of cruel delight he had seen his eldest son display when the boy had smashed his brother’s sand castle at the beach.

Another gesture from Bolas brought Tetsuo spinning back to face his adversary. The ex-emperor leered down and flicked a clawed finger at him. With a wrench, Tetsuo’s limbs and mouth lost their rigidity.

“You may speak now, insect. But save any threats or pleas for mercy. Both are futile at this point. The rest of your existence will consist of suffering for imprisoning me for as long as you did.”

“How long, exactly?” Tetsuo asked, hoping to take some solace in the figure.

“Three hundred and fifty years,” Bolas snarled, startling what surrounding wildlife remained after the dragon’s earlier wanton destruction, “Yet that will be _paltry_ next to your punishment! Observe!”

Tetsuo now spun so that he faced the same way as his tormentor. Below them stretched row upon row of graves. The Umezawa family plot was a large and well-maintained part of the property. As surprised as Madara’s last champion was to see it untouched by wreckage from the manor, he was even more shocked to find it occupied by hundreds of people. Each grave was freshly excavated and beside every one stood a deceased Umezawa.

“I did recommend you have a large family Tetsuo,” Bolas said conversationally, “but I see your progeny took to the task with gusto. They’ve made my task that much more enjoyable.”

Before Tetsuo dared ask what would befall them, and him, next, he was struck by a miniscule hope.

“Do any of them yet survive?” he asked, looking for any that looked as if they were breathing.

“Oh, there were a few,” Bolas said dismissively, “but after my long captivity I was feeling rather… _ravenous_. I don’t need to eat, of course, but I did relish the feeling of live flesh between my teeth again.”

Although he had expected such depravity from the dragon, Tetsuo still blanched at the thought.

Seeing this, the planeswalker continued, “I did them a favor, if anything Umezawa. Your line had been reduced to worshipping those horrendous cats you let loose on Madara.”

“ _What_?!” There seemed no end of surprises in store for the undead warrior.

Bolas’s broad grin widened even further. “Yes, your pet nekoru made your people _their_ pets and took over nearly half of Madara before I returned. I gathered there was some sort of rebellion, but I was too busy hunting those furry, arrogant disgraces to the name ‘dragon’ to pay much attention. So you see Umezawa, killing me was not better for Madara, or indeed the world. While I was trapped, Dominaria was invaded by the plane of Phyrexia.”

Tetsuo paled. He had heard travelers’ tales of monsters fused with metal, but he had never given them much credence. If even half of what he had heard was true, he couldn’t imagine what state the world was in.

Reading his expression, if not his mind, Bolas said, “Those abominable vermin laid waste to much of this plane. Had I lived, the tide would _not_ have been in their favor. Oh, and had you noticed the lack of mana? Only a hundred years after that apocalyptic event, all magic on Dominaria was ripped from the land and pulled to one source. Though it is now returned, and as tempting the thought that I could have stolen that power is, I would never allowed such devastation to come to this place, the brightest gem in my collection of worlds. So, Tetsuo Umezawa, because of your foolish betrayal, you doomed not only yourself, but the entire _world_ to desolation!”

Tetsuo merely stared back at him. Even if what Bolas said was true, he could not have anticipated these events. There was no reason to feel guilty for placing principle and his people before duty to his draconic despot.

 _Cling to your childish honor if you think it will help you through your coming trials_ , Bolas projected into his mind, _No being I have encountered during the millennia will suffer as you are about to_.

To punctuate his statement, a thread of blue energy thrust from each undead Umezawa in the graveyard. As the insubstantial threads lengthened, they formed a thick cord which drove itself into Tetsuo’s forehead. The warrior recoiled by reflex, but he felt no pain at the impact.

“I had hoped to devise something that would last longer, but the lack of mana and time has forced this compromise on my part,” Bolas said apologetically, snapping his clawed fingers together.

Tetsuo’s undead relations all seemed to regain awareness at once. Every thought and sensation each experienced flooded into his head; the assault of information nearly making him pass out. Whether he held on due to sheer will or another spell on his torturer’s part, he didn’t know.

“Umezawa clan!” Bolas boomed at them, “Look here and see the source of your doom! Tetsuo Umezawa dared to defy Nicol Bolas, the god emperor of Madara. For this, you will _all_ suffer! If you must curse someone for this fate, curse him and his misguided _honor_.”

Every clan member then dropped beside their burial place and lifted weapons from the ground which Tetsuo had not seen. The bottom dropped out of his stomach as he realized what was about to happen. His shout of alarm was cut off, along with a child’s arm. He tried to close his eyes against the coming massacre, but they would not obey him. The rest of the battalion of family members set about dismembering one another with brutal efficiency. Fathers, mothers, siblings, husbands, wives: none were excluded. They howled and sobbed as they were forced to brutalize those they loved. When they could manage words they screamed the most potent expletives they could think of at Tetsuo. The object of their hate could only writhe and yell soundlessly, overwhelmed by the flood of thoughts and sensations.

When at last the ghastly, twisted slaughter had ended, the former champion could only hang motionless as his body convulsed with the combined anguish of hundreds, as well as his own. A few minutes or hours later, Tetsuo couldn’t be sure, the flood of despair felt suddenly dammed. He remembered what happened, but he felt cut off from his emotions, as though the horror he just witnessed had happened to someone else. Glancing up, he saw Bolas hovering next to him, smiling with a lazy, wistful expression of pleasure on his scaly face.

“Are you…done?” he rasped, blinking through tear-soaked eyes.

The dragon’s smile sharpened, “No Tetsuo. This is but the appetizer in my banquet of revenge. The main course comes soon, and I want you somewhat coherent, so that you may fully appreciate your doom. But first another matter…”

Another snap of his fingers drew a sapphire string from Tetsuo’s head into the planeswalker’s own. Next he floated them both over the grisly scene until they reached the far side of the cemetery. Underneath them lay a single, undisturbed grave.

“Toshiro Umezawa,” Bolas said, lifting the soil with a nod of his horned head, “The founder of your clan. He was a meddlesome rogue, brought here by a wretched spirit from another plane.”

Another series of hand motions opened the coffin and poured unlife into the corpse. Bolas lifted them both and flew towards the distant Talon Gates. As they soared over the mana-drained Madara, Tetsuo examined his ancestor, who was frozen in some sort of stasis. The man appeared as he had before death. Slim and wiry, Toshiro was slightly balding; though his beard still sported streaks of robust black. The Umezawa forbearer’s mouth had a smirking turn to it and his stationary eyes were white with blindness.

Upon reaching the massive spires of rock, Bolas set the two Umezawas floating again and pointed at the elder. Toshiro shook himself and stretched his limbs. Quirking an ear and listening to the waves, the old scoundrel called, “Is someone there? Who brought me to the beach?”

“Toshiro Umezawa,” Bolas answered, “my name is Nicol Bolas. I am an enemy of Night’s Reach.”

“From what I can hear, you sound up to the task sir.”

“Naturally. Yet for my purposes, it is necessary that you do more than listen.”

A black spark shot from Bolas’s claw into the sightless face hovering beside him. The cloudy film that darkened Toshiro’s eyes receded, revealing long hidden irises.

“You are most generous,” Toshiro bowed, taking in the dragon’s awesome form and the world he had never seen.

“Do not thank me yet,” the planeswalker warned, moving aside to better show Tetsuo, whom his ancestor had, quite understandably, missed, “This is your descendant, Tetsuo. This worm wronged me in the worst possible way and I have taken revenge on all of your progeny, living and dead.”

“Huh,” Toshiro muttered, utterly nonplussed, “Glad you spared me from watching that.”

“You _should_ be,” Bolas smiled nastily, “You alone I will spare from my wrath. Although you did cause this detestable insect to exist, I require you for something else. Yet, I promised Tetsuo that I would see all the Umezawas punished, so I will allow another to do it for me. It is time to go home, Toshiro. It is time you returned to Kamigawa.”

Tetsuo’s foe encased both humans in a cocoon of light. Grabbing the orb in a clawed hand, Bolas’s other forelimb tore through the veil of reality and brought them into the nothingness that separated planes. Tetsuo had heard the so-called Blind Eternities described, but words could not accurately convey the experience. The closest thing he could equate it with, would be the sensation of tumbling through an ever-shifting, multi-colored sea. Glancing next to him, Tetsuo could see his ancestor grow paler by the second. Whether it was some form of motion sickness or his dread at their destination, he could not tell. He doubted someone undead could be sick, and if they could, that anything would come up.

Bolas cut through the chaos like a knife. The Elder Dragon moved unerringly forward, such that, at times, it appeared as if he were still and that the worlds around them were rotating about _him_. 

All too soon though, they arrived at their destination: a world divided in two, each half covered in clouds, one side darker than the other. Bolas soared towards the darker side.

All at once, they were…elsewhere. Disoriented, Tetsuo blinked and took in his surroundings. At first he thought his eyes were still closed. Darkness surrounded them. It roiled and billowed, appearing as fluid as the Blind Eternities. Yet, it was not without substance, for he could feel something solid beneath his feet, Bolas having apparently dissolved the bubble surrounding the Umezawas. Every few seconds a red light would flare in the distance, too far away to identify. Glancing next to him, Tetsuo saw the dragon waiting for something, his great face peering about; perhaps trying to discover the origin of the lights, just as he had. Closer still, Toshiro looked paler than ever. Abject horror lay etched on his face.

Then there came a faint clacking sound. It was soon joined by another, near identical noise, and another, until a veritable chorus echoed around them. Small, gleaming white lights accompanied the snaps, which grew in intensity as the bright shapes drew nearer. Were they birds? They seemed to be flapping, at any rate. When the flocks drew close enough to see, Tetsuo was startled to discover that the fluttering shapes were pure white rows of teeth, each framing an invisible mouth. There were mouths of all shapes, sizes and species.

Tetsuo nearly jumped when he heard a clattering to his side, but found that it was only Toshiro, who was practically shivering with fright, causing his own teeth to rattle.

The flight of mouths drew together in a crazed cyclone of hunger. Out of it, a shape formed from the disparate maws. Huge arms and legs coalesced and were soon connected by a massive, gnashing torso. Finally, a squat head formed, with three open, ember-filled mouths acting as eyes and topped with a pair of voracious horns. As best Tetsuo could tell, it was some sort of ogre or troll.

“Hello blood brother,” the mouth-thing rumbled, its words punctuated by the unsettling clicking of fangs.

“Hidetsugu,” Toshiro replied, visibly swallowing as he tried to seem unafraid.

“Bolas informs me that you are to be punished,” the monster said as casually as its unnatural and intimidating presence would allow, “for something your little successor here has done. I am only too happy to oblige him, though I would put you to good use first.”

Toshiro could only stare, nodding once in acknowledgement.

“And for you, great Dragon,” the horned nightmare continued, extending a biting hand forward, “I give you the information you requested. This should make finding her much easier. Toshiro should also keep the Sisters of Flesh and Spirit distracted while you take your revenge.”

A scroll floated from Hidetsugu and Bolas snatched it deftly from the air.

The planeswalker smiled and lowered his neck in a minute bow of thanks.

“Farewell Toshiro. Do not blame your old friend in this matter. Know that your fate will be _kind_ compared to your descendant’s.”

As he was scooped up by Bolas, Tetsuo barely had time to glimpse the huge mass of maws lowering itself down to meet the first Umezawa eye to eye before a purple, crystalline cage formed itself around him and cut off his view. The next moment, he and his torturer had returned to the chaotic ocean between worlds.

Tetsuo saw Bolas snap his fingers and felt his memories and emotions, as well as those of his obliterated clan, come back in a torrent of agony. Curling his hand into a fist helped him focus and he struck the side of his prison, growling, “Bastard.”

Bolas chuckled, the sound echoing in his mind rather than his ears.

 _An odd choice of insult, insect. Dragons adhere to no concept of marriage_.

Tetsuo scowled and thought back, _You know what I mean you vile monster_!

 _Now now Tetsuo, you’ve only brought this on yourself. If you had done your duty, you could have served me, lived out your days and rested in peace_. _But_ …the dragon’s mental voice dripped with menace, _instead you chose your precious_ honor _and have brought_ ruin _to your_ clan _, your_ nation _and your_ world!

Shaking with impotent rage, Tetsuo clawed the sides of his crystalline cell; his face contorted in an animalistic snarl.

 _Now, my most hated, traitorous pest, allow me to describe your future torment. As you can see, I have imprisoned you in a cage. In it, you will be subjected to every manner of misery I could devise. You will be burned, frozen, cut, bludgeoned, poisoned, shocked, and many more things I want to be a_ surprise _! Occasionally some of these will occur at the same time. You are undead, so you cannot die. I have arranged for your private hell to draw mana from the errant amount that pervades the æther, ensuring its effects never cease. Any damage will be undone and redone. Should you go mad, you will be cured._ This _is your punishment Umezawa: you will suffer eternally and in every way imaginable! I_ told _you before you killed me that you would scream forever. I believe you said you would be ready. So tell me, you vacuous, recreant_ NOTHING _! Do you_ feel _ready?!_

With that, Bolas struck the purple crystal, setting it adrift until the end of existence.

Pain, pain beyond anything he thought possible coursed through his body. Before the dragon was lost to sight Tetsuo fought through his spasms and yelled, “ _BO-LASSSSSS_!!!”

The dragon’s triumphant, roaring laughter echoed in his head, the only sound he heard again besides his own suffering.

* * *

 

Bolas observed his hated enemy’s suffering for several hours before he stopped. With a reluctant sigh, he withdrew his connection to what had to be one of his greatest works. The beacon spell he had woven into it would ensure he could find it again; should he ever need more joy in his life.

Floating listlessly in the Blind Eternities, he stretched reflexively. His revenge was nearly complete. All that remained was dessert. It was time for some Night hunting.


End file.
